Sat his daughter Laughing Water."Sat his daughter Laughing Water,Plaiting mats of flags and rushes;Of the past the old man's thoughts wereAnd the maiden's of the future."
"Sat his daughter Laughing Water,Plaiting mats of flags and rushes;Of the past the old man's thoughts wereAnd the maiden's of the future."
"Sat his daughter Laughing Water,Plaiting mats of flags and rushes;Of the past the old man's thoughts wereAnd the maiden's of the future."
"Sat his daughter Laughing Water,Plaiting mats of flags and rushes;Of the past the old man's thoughts wereAnd the maiden's of the future."
At the doorway of his wigwamSat the ancient Arrow-maker,In the land of the Dacotahs,85Making arrow-heads of jasper,Arrow-heads of chalcedony.At his side in all her beauty,Sat the lovely Minnehaha,Sat his daughter, Laughing Water,90Plaiting mats of flags and rushes;Of the past the old man's thoughts were,And the maiden's of the future.He was thinking, as he sat there,Of the days when with such arrows95He had struck the deer and bison,On the Muskoday, the meadow;Shot the wild goose, flying southward,On the wing, the clamorous Wawa;Thinking of the great war-parties,100How they came to buy his arrows,Could not fight without his arrows.Ah, no more such noble warriorsCould be found on earth as they were!Now the men were all like women,105Only used their tongues for weapons!She was thinking of a hunter,From another tribe and country,Young and tall and very handsome,Who one morning, in the Spring-time,110Came to buy her father's arrows,Sat and rested in the wigwam,Lingered long about the doorway,Looking back as he departed.She had heard her father praise him,115Praise his courage and his wisdom;Would he come again for arrowsTo the Falls of Minnehaha?On the mat her hands lay idle,And her eyes were very dreamy.120Through their thoughts they heard a footstep,Heard a rustling in the branches,And with glowing cheek and forehead,With the deer upon his shoulders,Suddenly from out the woodlands125Hiawatha stood before them.Straight the ancient Arrow-makerLooked up gravely from his labor,Laid aside the unfinished arrow,Bade him enter at the doorway,130Saying, as he rose to meet him,"Hiawatha, you are welcome!"At the feet of Laughing WaterHiawatha laid his burden,Threw the red deer from his shoulders;135And the maiden looked up at him,Looked up from her mat of rushes,Said with gentle look and accent,"You are welcome, Hiawatha!"Very spacious was the wigwam,140Made of deer-skin dressed and whitened,With the Gods of the DacotahsDrawn and painted on its curtains,And so tall the doorway, hardlyHiawatha stooped to enter,145Hardly touched his eagle-feathersAs he entered at the doorway.Then uprose the Laughing Water,From the ground fair Minnehaha,Laid aside her mat unfinished,150Brought forth food and set before them,Water brought them from the brooklet,Gave them food in earthen vessels,Gave them drink in bowls of bass-wood,Listened while the guest was speaking,155Listened while her father answered,But not once her lips she opened,Not a single word she uttered.Yes, as in a dream she listenedTo the words of Hiawatha,160As he talked of old Nokomis,Who had nursed him in his childhood,As he told of his companions,Chibiabos, the musician,And the very strong man, Kwasind,165And of happiness and plentyIn the land of the Ojibways,In the pleasant land and peaceful."After many years of warfare,Many years of strife and bloodshed,170There is peace between the OjibwaysAnd the tribe of the Dacotahs."Thus continued Hiawatha,And then added, speaking slowly,"That this peace may last forever,175And our hands be clasped more closely,And our hearts be more united,Give me as my wife this maiden,Minnehaha, Laughing Water,Loveliest of Dacotah women!"180And the ancient Arrow-makerPaused a moment ere he answered,Smoked a little while in silence,Looked at Hiawatha proudly,Fondly looked at Laughing Water,185And made answer very gravely:"Yes, if Minnehaha wishes;Let your heart speak, Minnehaha!"And the lovely Laughing WaterSeemed more lovely, as she stood there,190Neither willing nor reluctant,As she went to Hiawatha,Softly took the seat beside him,While she said, and blushed to say it,"I will follow you, my husband!"195This was Hiawatha's wooing!Thus it was he won the daughterOf the ancient Arrow-maker,In the land of the Dacotahs!From the wigwam he departed,200Leading with him Laughing Water;Hand in hand they went together,Through the woodland and the meadow,Left the old man standing lonelyAt the doorway of his wigwam,205Heard the Falls of MinnehahaCalling to them from the distance,Crying to them from afar off,"Fare thee well, O Minnehaha!"And the ancient Arrow-maker210Turned again unto his labor,Sat down by his sunny doorway,Murmuring to himself, and saying:"Thus it is our daughters leave us,Those we love, and those who love us!215Just when they have learned to help us,When we are old and lean upon them,Comes a youth with flaunting feathers,With his flute of reeds, a strangerWanders piping through the village,220Beckons to the fairest maiden,And she follows where he leads her,Leaving all things for the stranger!"
At the doorway of his wigwamSat the ancient Arrow-maker,In the land of the Dacotahs,85Making arrow-heads of jasper,Arrow-heads of chalcedony.At his side in all her beauty,Sat the lovely Minnehaha,Sat his daughter, Laughing Water,90Plaiting mats of flags and rushes;Of the past the old man's thoughts were,And the maiden's of the future.He was thinking, as he sat there,Of the days when with such arrows95He had struck the deer and bison,On the Muskoday, the meadow;Shot the wild goose, flying southward,On the wing, the clamorous Wawa;Thinking of the great war-parties,100How they came to buy his arrows,Could not fight without his arrows.Ah, no more such noble warriorsCould be found on earth as they were!Now the men were all like women,105Only used their tongues for weapons!She was thinking of a hunter,From another tribe and country,Young and tall and very handsome,Who one morning, in the Spring-time,110Came to buy her father's arrows,Sat and rested in the wigwam,Lingered long about the doorway,Looking back as he departed.She had heard her father praise him,115Praise his courage and his wisdom;Would he come again for arrowsTo the Falls of Minnehaha?On the mat her hands lay idle,And her eyes were very dreamy.120Through their thoughts they heard a footstep,Heard a rustling in the branches,And with glowing cheek and forehead,With the deer upon his shoulders,Suddenly from out the woodlands125Hiawatha stood before them.Straight the ancient Arrow-makerLooked up gravely from his labor,Laid aside the unfinished arrow,Bade him enter at the doorway,130Saying, as he rose to meet him,"Hiawatha, you are welcome!"At the feet of Laughing WaterHiawatha laid his burden,Threw the red deer from his shoulders;135And the maiden looked up at him,Looked up from her mat of rushes,Said with gentle look and accent,"You are welcome, Hiawatha!"Very spacious was the wigwam,140Made of deer-skin dressed and whitened,With the Gods of the DacotahsDrawn and painted on its curtains,And so tall the doorway, hardlyHiawatha stooped to enter,145Hardly touched his eagle-feathersAs he entered at the doorway.Then uprose the Laughing Water,From the ground fair Minnehaha,Laid aside her mat unfinished,150Brought forth food and set before them,Water brought them from the brooklet,Gave them food in earthen vessels,Gave them drink in bowls of bass-wood,Listened while the guest was speaking,155Listened while her father answered,But not once her lips she opened,Not a single word she uttered.Yes, as in a dream she listenedTo the words of Hiawatha,160As he talked of old Nokomis,Who had nursed him in his childhood,As he told of his companions,Chibiabos, the musician,And the very strong man, Kwasind,165And of happiness and plentyIn the land of the Ojibways,In the pleasant land and peaceful."After many years of warfare,Many years of strife and bloodshed,170There is peace between the OjibwaysAnd the tribe of the Dacotahs."Thus continued Hiawatha,And then added, speaking slowly,"That this peace may last forever,175And our hands be clasped more closely,And our hearts be more united,Give me as my wife this maiden,Minnehaha, Laughing Water,Loveliest of Dacotah women!"180And the ancient Arrow-makerPaused a moment ere he answered,Smoked a little while in silence,Looked at Hiawatha proudly,Fondly looked at Laughing Water,185And made answer very gravely:"Yes, if Minnehaha wishes;Let your heart speak, Minnehaha!"And the lovely Laughing WaterSeemed more lovely, as she stood there,190Neither willing nor reluctant,As she went to Hiawatha,Softly took the seat beside him,While she said, and blushed to say it,"I will follow you, my husband!"195This was Hiawatha's wooing!Thus it was he won the daughterOf the ancient Arrow-maker,In the land of the Dacotahs!From the wigwam he departed,200Leading with him Laughing Water;Hand in hand they went together,Through the woodland and the meadow,Left the old man standing lonelyAt the doorway of his wigwam,205Heard the Falls of MinnehahaCalling to them from the distance,Crying to them from afar off,"Fare thee well, O Minnehaha!"And the ancient Arrow-maker210Turned again unto his labor,Sat down by his sunny doorway,Murmuring to himself, and saying:"Thus it is our daughters leave us,Those we love, and those who love us!215Just when they have learned to help us,When we are old and lean upon them,Comes a youth with flaunting feathers,With his flute of reeds, a strangerWanders piping through the village,220Beckons to the fairest maiden,And she follows where he leads her,Leaving all things for the stranger!"
Three canoes.
Pleasant was the journey homeward,Through interminable forests,225Over meadow, over mountain,Over river, hill, and hollow.Short it seemed to Hiawatha,Though they journeyed very slowly,Though his pace he checked and slackened230To the steps of Laughing Water.
Pleasant was the journey homeward,Through interminable forests,225Over meadow, over mountain,Over river, hill, and hollow.Short it seemed to Hiawatha,Though they journeyed very slowly,Though his pace he checked and slackened230To the steps of Laughing Water.
Who stands on that cliff,Who stands on that cliff, like a figure of stone,Unmoving and tall in the light of the sky,Where the spray of the cataract sparkles on highAll lonely and sternly, save Mogg Megone?
Who stands on that cliff, like a figure of stone,Unmoving and tall in the light of the sky,Where the spray of the cataract sparkles on highAll lonely and sternly, save Mogg Megone?
Who stands on that cliff, like a figure of stone,Unmoving and tall in the light of the sky,Where the spray of the cataract sparkles on highAll lonely and sternly, save Mogg Megone?
Over wide and rushing riversIn his arms he bore the maiden;Light he thought her as a feather,As the plume upon his head-gear;235Cleared the tangled pathway for her,Bent aside the swaying branches,Made at night a lodge of branches,And a bed with boughs of hemlock,And a fire before the doorway240With the dry cones of the pine-tree.All the travelling winds went with them,O'er the meadow, through the forest;All the stars of night looked at them,Watched with sleepless eyes their slumber;245From his ambush in the oak-treePeeped the squirrel, Adjidaumo,Watched with eager eyes the lovers;And the rabbit, the Wabasso,Scampered from the path before them,250Peering, peeping from his burrow,Sat erect upon his haunches,Watched with curious eyes the lovers.Pleasant was the journey homeward!All the birds sang loud and sweetly255Songs of happiness and heart's-ease;Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa,"Happy are you, Hiawatha,Having such a wife to love you!"Sang the Opechee, the robin,260"Happy are you, Laughing Water,Having such a noble husband!"From the sky the sun benignantLooked upon them through the branches,Saying to them, "O my children,265Love is sunshine, hate is shadow,Life is checkered shade and sunshine,Rule by love, O Hiawatha!"From the sky the moon looked at them,Filled the lodge with mystic splendors,270Whispered to them, "O my children,Day is restless, night is quiet,Man imperious, woman feeble;Half is mine, although I follow;Rule by patience, Laughing Water!"275Thus it was they journeyed homeward;Thus it was that HiawathaTo the lodge of old NokomisBrought the moonlight, starlight, firelight,Brought the sunshine of his people,280Minnehaha, Laughing Water,Handsomest of all the womenIn the land of the Dacotahs,In the land of handsome women.
Over wide and rushing riversIn his arms he bore the maiden;Light he thought her as a feather,As the plume upon his head-gear;235Cleared the tangled pathway for her,Bent aside the swaying branches,Made at night a lodge of branches,And a bed with boughs of hemlock,And a fire before the doorway240With the dry cones of the pine-tree.All the travelling winds went with them,O'er the meadow, through the forest;All the stars of night looked at them,Watched with sleepless eyes their slumber;245From his ambush in the oak-treePeeped the squirrel, Adjidaumo,Watched with eager eyes the lovers;And the rabbit, the Wabasso,Scampered from the path before them,250Peering, peeping from his burrow,Sat erect upon his haunches,Watched with curious eyes the lovers.Pleasant was the journey homeward!All the birds sang loud and sweetly255Songs of happiness and heart's-ease;Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa,"Happy are you, Hiawatha,Having such a wife to love you!"Sang the Opechee, the robin,260"Happy are you, Laughing Water,Having such a noble husband!"From the sky the sun benignantLooked upon them through the branches,Saying to them, "O my children,265Love is sunshine, hate is shadow,Life is checkered shade and sunshine,Rule by love, O Hiawatha!"From the sky the moon looked at them,Filled the lodge with mystic splendors,270Whispered to them, "O my children,Day is restless, night is quiet,Man imperious, woman feeble;Half is mine, although I follow;Rule by patience, Laughing Water!"275Thus it was they journeyed homeward;Thus it was that HiawathaTo the lodge of old NokomisBrought the moonlight, starlight, firelight,Brought the sunshine of his people,280Minnehaha, Laughing Water,Handsomest of all the womenIn the land of the Dacotahs,In the land of handsome women.
Section of Wampum BeltSection of Wampum Belt Presented to Wm. Penn—Emblem of Brotherly Love.
Indian Decorated Bowls.Indian Decorated Bowls.
Y
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis,How the handsome YenadizzeDanced at Hiawatha's wedding;How the gentle Chibiabos,5He the sweetest of musicians,Sang his songs of love and longing;How Iagoo, the great boaster,He the marvellous story-teller,Told his tales of strange adventure,10That the feast might be more joyous,That the time might pass more gayly,And the guests be more contented.Sumptuous was the feast NokomisMade at Hiawatha's wedding;15All the bowls were made of bass-wood,White and polished very smoothly,All the spoons of horn of bison,Black and polished very smoothly.
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis,How the handsome YenadizzeDanced at Hiawatha's wedding;How the gentle Chibiabos,5He the sweetest of musicians,Sang his songs of love and longing;How Iagoo, the great boaster,He the marvellous story-teller,Told his tales of strange adventure,10That the feast might be more joyous,That the time might pass more gayly,And the guests be more contented.Sumptuous was the feast NokomisMade at Hiawatha's wedding;15All the bowls were made of bass-wood,White and polished very smoothly,All the spoons of horn of bison,Black and polished very smoothly.
Gathering Wild Rice.Gathering Wild Rice.
She had sent through all the village20Messengers with wands of willow,As a sign of invitation,As a token of the feasting;And the wedding guests assembled,Clad in all their richest raiment,25Robes of fur and belts of wampum,Splendid with their paint and plumage,Beautiful with beads and tassels.First they ate the sturgeon, Nahma,And the pike, the Maskenozha,30Caught and cooked by old Nokomis;Then on pemican they feasted,Pemican and buffalo marrow,Haunch of deer and hump of bison,Yellow cakes of the Mondamin,35And the wild rice of the river.But the gracious Hiawatha,And the lovely Laughing Water,And the careful old Nokomis,Tasted not the food before them,40Only waited on the others,Only served their guests in silence.And when all the guests had finished,Old Nokomis, brisk and busy,From an ample pouch of otter,45Filled the red stone pipes for smokingWith tobacco from the South-land,Mixed with bark of the red willow,And with herbs and leaves of fragrance.Then she said, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis,50Dance for us your merry dances,Dance the Beggar's Dance to please us,That the feast may be more joyous,That the time may pass more gayly,And our guests be more contented!"55Then the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis,He the idle Yenadizze,He the merry mischief-maker,Whom the people called the Storm-Fool,Rose among the guests assembled.60Skilled was he in sports and pastimes,In the merry dance of snow-shoes,In the play of quoits and ball-play;Skilled was he in games of hazard,In all games of skill and hazard,65Pugasaing, the Bowl and Counters,Kuntassoo, the Game of Plum-stones,Though the warriors called him Faint-heart,Called him coward, Shaugodaya,Idler, gambler, Yenadizze,70Little heeded he their jesting,Little cared he for their insults,For the women and the maidensLoved the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis.
She had sent through all the village20Messengers with wands of willow,As a sign of invitation,As a token of the feasting;And the wedding guests assembled,Clad in all their richest raiment,25Robes of fur and belts of wampum,Splendid with their paint and plumage,Beautiful with beads and tassels.First they ate the sturgeon, Nahma,And the pike, the Maskenozha,30Caught and cooked by old Nokomis;Then on pemican they feasted,Pemican and buffalo marrow,Haunch of deer and hump of bison,Yellow cakes of the Mondamin,35And the wild rice of the river.But the gracious Hiawatha,And the lovely Laughing Water,And the careful old Nokomis,Tasted not the food before them,40Only waited on the others,Only served their guests in silence.And when all the guests had finished,Old Nokomis, brisk and busy,From an ample pouch of otter,45Filled the red stone pipes for smokingWith tobacco from the South-land,Mixed with bark of the red willow,And with herbs and leaves of fragrance.Then she said, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis,50Dance for us your merry dances,Dance the Beggar's Dance to please us,That the feast may be more joyous,That the time may pass more gayly,And our guests be more contented!"55Then the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis,He the idle Yenadizze,He the merry mischief-maker,Whom the people called the Storm-Fool,Rose among the guests assembled.60Skilled was he in sports and pastimes,In the merry dance of snow-shoes,In the play of quoits and ball-play;Skilled was he in games of hazard,In all games of skill and hazard,65Pugasaing, the Bowl and Counters,Kuntassoo, the Game of Plum-stones,Though the warriors called him Faint-heart,Called him coward, Shaugodaya,Idler, gambler, Yenadizze,70Little heeded he their jesting,Little cared he for their insults,For the women and the maidensLoved the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis.
Buckskin ShirtBuckskin Shirt, Embroidered with Wampum.
He was dressed in shirt of doe-skin,75White and soft, and fringed with ermine,All inwrought with beads of wampum;He was dressed in deer-skin leggings,Fringed with hedgehog quills and ermine,And in moccasins of buck-skin,80Thick with quills and beads embroidered.On his head were plumes of swan's down,On his heels were tails of foxes,In one hand a fan of feathers,And a pipe was in the other.85Barred with streaks of red and yellow,Streaks of blue and bright vermilion,Shone the face of Pau-Puk-Keewis.From his forehead fell his tresses,Smooth, and parted like a woman's,90Shining bright with oil, and plaited,Hung with braids of scented grasses,As among the guests assembled,To the sound of flutes and singing,To the sound of drums and voices,95Rose the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis,And began his mystic dances.First he danced a solemn measure,Very slow in step and gesture,In and out among the pine-trees,100Through the shadows and the sunshine,Treading softly like a panther.Then more swiftly and still swifter,Whirling, spinning round in circles,Leaping o'er the guests assembled,105Eddying round and round the wigwam,Till the leaves went whirling with him,Till the dust and wind togetherSwept in eddies round about him.Then along the sandy margin110Of the lake, the Big-Sea-Water,On he sped with frenzied gestures,Stamped upon the sand, and tossed itWildly in the air around him;Till the wind became a whirlwind,115Till the sand was blown and siftedLike great snowdrifts o'er the landscape,Heaping all the shores with Sand Dunes,Sand Hills of the Nagow Wudjoo!Thus the merry Pau-Puk-Keewis120Danced his Beggar's Dance to please them,And, returning, sat down laughingThere among the guests assembled,Sat and fanned himself serenelyWith his fan of turkey-feathers.125Then they said to Chibiabos,To the friend of Hiawatha,To the sweetest of all singers,To the best of all musicians,"Sing to us, O Chibiabos!130Songs of love and songs of longing,That the feast may be more joyous,That the time may pass more gayly,And our guests be more contented!"And the gentle Chibiabos135Sang in accents sweet and tender,Sang in tones of deep emotion,Songs of love and songs of longing;Looking still at Hiawatha,Looking at fair Laughing Water,140Sang he softly, sang in this wise:"Onaway! Awake, beloved!Thou the wild-flower of the forest!Thou the wild-bird of the prairie!Thou with eyes so soft and fawn-like!145"If thou only lookest at me,I am happy, I am happy,As the lilies of the prairie,When they feel the dew upon them!"Sweet thy breath is as the fragrance150Of the wild-flowers in the morning,As their fragrance is at evening,In the Moon when leaves are falling."Does not all the blood within meLeap to meet thee, leap to meet thee,155As the springs to meet the sunshine,In the Moon when nights are brightest?"Onaway! my heart sings to thee,Sings with joy when thou art near me,As the sighing, singing branches160In the pleasant Moon of Strawberries!"When thou art not pleased, beloved,Then my heart is sad and darkened,As the shining river darkensWhen the clouds drop shadows on it!165"When thou smilest, my beloved,Then my troubled heart is brightened,As in sunshine gleam the ripplesThat the cold wind makes in rivers."Smiles the earth, and smile the waters,170Smile the cloudless skies above us,But I lose the way of smilingWhen thou art no longer near me!"I myself, myself! behold me!Blood of my beating heart, behold me!175O awake, awake, beloved!Onaway! awake, beloved!"Thus the gentle ChibiabosSang his song of love and longing;And Iagoo, the great boaster,180He the marvellous story-teller,He the friend of old Nokomis,Jealous of the sweet musician,Jealous of the applause they gave him,Saw in all the eyes around him,185Saw in all their looks and gestures,That the wedding guests assembledLonged to hear his pleasant stories,His immeasurable falsehoods.Very boastful was Iagoo;190Never heard he an adventureBut himself had met a greater;Never any deed of daringBut himself had done a bolder;Never any marvellous story195But himself could tell a stranger.Would you listen to his boasting,Would you only give him credence,No one ever shot an arrowHalf so far and high as he had;200Ever caught so many fishes,Ever killed so many reindeer,Ever trapped so many beaver!
He was dressed in shirt of doe-skin,75White and soft, and fringed with ermine,All inwrought with beads of wampum;He was dressed in deer-skin leggings,Fringed with hedgehog quills and ermine,And in moccasins of buck-skin,80Thick with quills and beads embroidered.On his head were plumes of swan's down,On his heels were tails of foxes,In one hand a fan of feathers,And a pipe was in the other.85Barred with streaks of red and yellow,Streaks of blue and bright vermilion,Shone the face of Pau-Puk-Keewis.From his forehead fell his tresses,Smooth, and parted like a woman's,90Shining bright with oil, and plaited,Hung with braids of scented grasses,As among the guests assembled,To the sound of flutes and singing,To the sound of drums and voices,95Rose the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis,And began his mystic dances.First he danced a solemn measure,Very slow in step and gesture,In and out among the pine-trees,100Through the shadows and the sunshine,Treading softly like a panther.Then more swiftly and still swifter,Whirling, spinning round in circles,Leaping o'er the guests assembled,105Eddying round and round the wigwam,Till the leaves went whirling with him,Till the dust and wind togetherSwept in eddies round about him.Then along the sandy margin110Of the lake, the Big-Sea-Water,On he sped with frenzied gestures,Stamped upon the sand, and tossed itWildly in the air around him;Till the wind became a whirlwind,115Till the sand was blown and siftedLike great snowdrifts o'er the landscape,Heaping all the shores with Sand Dunes,Sand Hills of the Nagow Wudjoo!Thus the merry Pau-Puk-Keewis120Danced his Beggar's Dance to please them,And, returning, sat down laughingThere among the guests assembled,Sat and fanned himself serenelyWith his fan of turkey-feathers.125Then they said to Chibiabos,To the friend of Hiawatha,To the sweetest of all singers,To the best of all musicians,"Sing to us, O Chibiabos!130Songs of love and songs of longing,That the feast may be more joyous,That the time may pass more gayly,And our guests be more contented!"And the gentle Chibiabos135Sang in accents sweet and tender,Sang in tones of deep emotion,Songs of love and songs of longing;Looking still at Hiawatha,Looking at fair Laughing Water,140Sang he softly, sang in this wise:"Onaway! Awake, beloved!Thou the wild-flower of the forest!Thou the wild-bird of the prairie!Thou with eyes so soft and fawn-like!145"If thou only lookest at me,I am happy, I am happy,As the lilies of the prairie,When they feel the dew upon them!"Sweet thy breath is as the fragrance150Of the wild-flowers in the morning,As their fragrance is at evening,In the Moon when leaves are falling."Does not all the blood within meLeap to meet thee, leap to meet thee,155As the springs to meet the sunshine,In the Moon when nights are brightest?"Onaway! my heart sings to thee,Sings with joy when thou art near me,As the sighing, singing branches160In the pleasant Moon of Strawberries!"When thou art not pleased, beloved,Then my heart is sad and darkened,As the shining river darkensWhen the clouds drop shadows on it!165"When thou smilest, my beloved,Then my troubled heart is brightened,As in sunshine gleam the ripplesThat the cold wind makes in rivers."Smiles the earth, and smile the waters,170Smile the cloudless skies above us,But I lose the way of smilingWhen thou art no longer near me!"I myself, myself! behold me!Blood of my beating heart, behold me!175O awake, awake, beloved!Onaway! awake, beloved!"Thus the gentle ChibiabosSang his song of love and longing;And Iagoo, the great boaster,180He the marvellous story-teller,He the friend of old Nokomis,Jealous of the sweet musician,Jealous of the applause they gave him,Saw in all the eyes around him,185Saw in all their looks and gestures,That the wedding guests assembledLonged to hear his pleasant stories,His immeasurable falsehoods.Very boastful was Iagoo;190Never heard he an adventureBut himself had met a greater;Never any deed of daringBut himself had done a bolder;Never any marvellous story195But himself could tell a stranger.Would you listen to his boasting,Would you only give him credence,No one ever shot an arrowHalf so far and high as he had;200Ever caught so many fishes,Ever killed so many reindeer,Ever trapped so many beaver!
Wedding guests"And the wedding guests assembled,Clad in all their richest raiment."
"And the wedding guests assembled,Clad in all their richest raiment."
"And the wedding guests assembled,Clad in all their richest raiment."
"And the wedding guests assembled,Clad in all their richest raiment."
None could run so fast as he could,None could dive so deep as he could,205None could swim so far as he could;None had made so many journeys,None had seen so many wonders,As this wonderful Iagoo,As this marvellous story-teller!210Thus his name became a by-wordAnd a jest among the people;And whene'er a boastful hunterPraised his own address too highly,Or a warrior, home returning,215Talked too much of his achievements,All his hearers cried, "Iagoo!Here's Iagoo come among us!"He it was who carved the cradleOf the little Hiawatha,220Carved its framework out of linden,Bound it strong with reindeer sinews;He it was who taught him laterHow to make his bows and arrows,How to make the bows of ash-tree,225And the arrows of the oak-tree.So among the guests assembledAt my Hiawatha's weddingSat Iagoo, old and ugly,Sat the marvellous story-teller.230And they said, "O good Iagoo,Tell us now a tale of wonder,Tell us of some strange adventure,That the feast may be more joyous,That the time may pass more gayly,235And our guests be more contented!"And Iagoo answered straightway,"You shall hear a tale of wonder,You shall hear the strange adventuresOf Osseo, the Magician,240From the Evening Star descended."
None could run so fast as he could,None could dive so deep as he could,205None could swim so far as he could;None had made so many journeys,None had seen so many wonders,As this wonderful Iagoo,As this marvellous story-teller!210Thus his name became a by-wordAnd a jest among the people;And whene'er a boastful hunterPraised his own address too highly,Or a warrior, home returning,215Talked too much of his achievements,All his hearers cried, "Iagoo!Here's Iagoo come among us!"He it was who carved the cradleOf the little Hiawatha,220Carved its framework out of linden,Bound it strong with reindeer sinews;He it was who taught him laterHow to make his bows and arrows,How to make the bows of ash-tree,225And the arrows of the oak-tree.So among the guests assembledAt my Hiawatha's weddingSat Iagoo, old and ugly,Sat the marvellous story-teller.230And they said, "O good Iagoo,Tell us now a tale of wonder,Tell us of some strange adventure,That the feast may be more joyous,That the time may pass more gayly,235And our guests be more contented!"And Iagoo answered straightway,"You shall hear a tale of wonder,You shall hear the strange adventuresOf Osseo, the Magician,240From the Evening Star descended."
Snowshoe
Iroquois Moccasins of Buckskin.Iroquois Moccasins of Buckskin.
C
Can it be the sun descendingO'er the level plain of water?Or the Red Swan floating, flying,Wounded by the magic arrow,5Staining all the waves with crimson,With the crimson of its life-blood,Filling all the air with splendor,With the splendor of its plumage?Yes; it is the sun descending,10Sinking down into the water;All the sky is stained with purple,All the water flushed with crimson!No; it is the Red Swan floating,Diving down beneath the water;15To the sky its wings are lifted,With its blood the waves are reddened!Over it the Star of EveningMelts and trembles through the purple,Hangs suspended in the twilight.20No; it is a bead of wampumOn the robes of the Great Spirit,As he passes through the twilight,Walks in silence through the heavens.This with joy beheld Iagoo25And he said in haste: "Behold it!See the sacred Star of Evening!You shall hear a tale of wonder,Hear the story of Osseo!Son of the Evening Star, Osseo!30"Once, in days no more remembered,Ages nearer the beginning,When the heavens were closer to us,And the Gods were more familiar,In the North-land lived a hunter,35With ten young and comely daughters,Tall and lithe as wands of willow;Only Oweenee, the youngest,She the wilful and the wayward,She the silent dreamy maiden,40Was the fairest of the sisters."All these women married warriors,Married brave and haughty husbands;Only Oweenee, the youngest,Laughed and flouted all her lovers,45All her young and handsome suitors,And then married old Osseo,Old Osseo, poor and ugly,Broken with age and weak with coughing,Always coughing like a squirrel.50"Ah, but beautiful within himWas the spirit of Osseo,From the Evening Star descended,Star of Evening, Star of Woman,Star of tenderness and passion!55All its fire was in his bosomAll its beauty in his spirit,All its mystery in his being,All its splendor in his language!"And her lovers, the rejected,60Handsome men with belts of wampum,Handsome men with paint and feathers,Pointed at her in derision,Followed her with jest and laughter.But she said: 'I care not for you,65Care not for your belts of wampum,Care not for your paint and feathers,Care not for your jest and laughter;I am happy with Osseo!'"Once to some great feast invited,70Through the damp and dusk of eveningWalked together the ten sisters,Walked together with their husbands;Slowly followed old Osseo,With fair Oweenee beside him;75All the others chatted gayly,These two only walked in silence."At the western sky OsseoGazed intent, as if imploring,Often stopped and gazed imploring80At the trembling Star of Evening,At the tender Star of Woman;And they heard him murmur softly,'Ah, showain nemeshin, Nosa!Pity, pity me, my father!'85"'Listen!' said the elder sister,'He is praying to his father!What a pity that the old manDoes not stumble in the pathway,Does not break his neck by falling!'90And they laughed till all the forestRang with their unseemly laughter."On their pathway through the woodlandsLay an oak, by storms uprooted,Lay the great trunk of an oak-tree,95Buried half in leaves and mosses,Mouldering, crumbling, huge and hollow.And Osseo, when he saw it,Gave a shout, a cry of anguish,Leaped into its yawning cavern,100At one end went in an old man,Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly;From the other came a young man,Tall and straight and strong and handsome."Thus Osseo was transfigured,105Thus restored to youth and beauty;But, alas for good Osseo,And for Oweenee, the faithful!Strangely, too, was she transfigured.Changed into a weak old woman,110With a staff she tottered onward,Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly!And the sisters and their husbandsLaughed until the echoing forestRang with their unseemly laughter.115"But Osseo turned not from her,Walked with slower step beside her,Took her hand, as brown and witheredAs an oak-leaf is in winter,Called her sweetheart, Nenemoosha,120Soothed her with soft words of kindness,Till they reached the lodge of feasting,Till they sat down in the wigwam,Sacred to the Star of Evening,To the tender Star of Woman.125"Wrapt in visions, lost in dreaming,At the banquet sat Osseo;All were merry, all were happy,All were joyous but Osseo.Neither food nor drink he tasted,130Neither did he speak nor listen,But as one bewildered sat he,Looking dreamily and sadly,First at Oweenee, then upwardAt the gleaming sky above them.135"Then a voice was heard, a whisper,Coming from the starry distance,Coming from the empty vastness,Low, and musical, and tender;And the voice said: 'O Osseo!140O my son, my best beloved!Broken are the spells that bound you,All the charms of the magicians,All the magic powers of evil;Come to me; ascend, Osseo!145"'Taste the food that stands before you:It is blessed and enchanted,It has magic virtues in it,It will change you to a spirit.All your bowls and all your kettles150Shall be wood and clay no longer;But the bowls be changed to wampum,And the kettles shall be silver;They shall shine like shells of scarlet,Like the fire shall gleam and glimmer.155"'And the women shall no longerBear the dreary doom of labor,But be changed to birds, and glistenWith the beauty of the starlight,Painted with the dusky splendors160Of the skies and clouds of evening!'"What Osseo heard as whispers,What as words he comprehended,Was but music to the others,Music as of birds afar off,165Of the whippoorwill afar off,Of the lonely WawonaissaSinging in the darksome forest."Then the lodge began to tremble,Straight began to shake and tremble,170And they felt it rising, rising,Slowly through the air ascending,From the darkness of the tree-topsForth into the dewy starlight,Till it passed the topmost branches;175And behold! the wooden dishesAll were changed to shells of scarlet!And behold! the earthen kettlesAll were changed to bowls of silver!And the roof-poles of the wigwam180Were as glittering rods of silver,And the roof of bark upon themAs the shining shards of beetles."Then Osseo gazed around him,And he saw the nine fair sisters,185All the sisters and their husbands,Changed to birds of various plumage.Some were jays and some were magpies,Others thrushes, others blackbirds;And they hopped, and sang, and twittered,190Perked and fluttered all their feathers,Strutted in their shining plumage,And their tails like fans unfolded."Only Oweenee, the youngest,Was not changed, but sat in silence,195Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly,Looking sadly at the others;Till Osseo, gazing upward,Gave another cry of anguish,Such a cry as he had uttered200By the oak-tree in the forest."Then returned her youth and beauty,And her soiled and tattered garmentsWere transformed to robes of ermine,And her staff became a feather,205Yes, a shining silver feather!"And again the wigwam trembled,Swayed and rushed through airy currents,Through transparent cloud and vapor,And amid celestial splendors210On the Evening Star alighted,As a snow-flake falls on snow-flake,As a leaf drops on a river,As the thistle-down on water."Forth with cheerful words of welcome215Came the father of Osseo,He with radiant locks of silver,He with eyes serene and tender.And he said: 'My son, Osseo,Hang the cage of birds you bring there,220Hang the cage with rods of silver,And the birds with glistening feathers,At the doorway of my wigwam.'"At the door he hung the bird-cage,And they entered in and gladly225Listened to Osseo's father,Ruler of the Star of Evening,As he said: 'O my Osseo!I have had compassion on you,Given you back your youth and beauty,230Into birds of various plumageChanged your sisters and their husbands;Changed them thus because they mocked you;In the figure of the old man,In that aspect sad and wrinkled,235Could not see your heart of passion,Could not see your youth immortal;Only Oweenee, the faithful,Saw your naked heart and loved you."'In the lodge that glimmers yonder,240In the little star that twinklesThrough the vapors, on the left hand,Lives the envious Evil Spirit,The Wabeno, the magician,Who transformed you to an old man.245Take heed lest his beams fall on you,For the rays he darts around himAre the power of his enchantment,Are the arrows that he uses.'"Many years, in peace and quiet,250On the peaceful Star of EveningDwelt Osseo with his father;Many years, in song and flutter,At the doorway of the wigwam,Hung the cage with rods of silver,255And fair Oweenee, the faithful,Bore a son unto Osseo,With the beauty of his mother,With the courage of his father."And the boy grew up and prospered,260And Osseo, to delight him,Made him little bows and arrows,Opened the great cage of silver,And let loose his aunts and uncles,All those birds with glossy feathers,265For his little son to shoot at."Round and round they wheeled and darted,Filled the Evening Star with music,With their songs of joy and freedom;Filled the Evening Star with splendor,270With the fluttering of their plumage;Till the boy, the little hunter,Bent his bow and shot an arrow,Shot a swift and fatal arrow,And a bird, with shining feathers,275At his feet fell wounded sorely."But, O wondrous transformation!'T was no bird he saw before him!'T was a beautiful young woman,With the arrow in her bosom!280"When her blood fell on the planet,On the sacred Star of Evening,Broken was the spell of magic,Powerless was the strange enchantment,And the youth, the fearless bowman,285Suddenly felt himself descending,Held by unseen hands, but sinkingDownward through the empty spaces,Downward through the clouds and vapors,Till he rested on an island,290On an island, green and grassy,Yonder in the Big-Sea-Water."After him he saw descendingAll the birds with shining feathers,Fluttering, falling, wafted downward,295Like the painted leaves of Autumn;And the lodge with poles of silver,With its roof like wings of beetles,Like the shining shards of beetles,By the winds of heaven uplifted,300Slowly sank upon the island,Bringing back the good Osseo,Bringing Oweenee, the faithful."Then the birds, again transfigured,Reassumed the shape of mortals,305Took their shape, but not their stature;They remained as Little People,Like the pygmies, the Puk-Wudjies,And on pleasant nights of Summer,When the Evening Star was shining,310Hand in hand they danced togetherOn the island's craggy headlands,On the sand-beach low and level."Still their glittering lodge is seen there,On the tranquil Summer evenings,315And upon the shore the fisherSometimes hears their happy voices,Sees them dancing in the starlight!"When the story was completed,When the wondrous tale was ended,320Looking round upon his listeners,Solemnly Iagoo added:"There are great men, I have known such,Whom their people understand not,Whom they even make a jest of,325Scoff and jeer at in derision.From the story of OsseoLet them learn the fate of jesters!"All the wedding guests delightedListened to the marvellous story,330Listened laughing and applauding,And they whispered to each other:"Does he mean himself, I wonder?And are we the aunts and uncles?"
Can it be the sun descendingO'er the level plain of water?Or the Red Swan floating, flying,Wounded by the magic arrow,5Staining all the waves with crimson,With the crimson of its life-blood,Filling all the air with splendor,With the splendor of its plumage?Yes; it is the sun descending,10Sinking down into the water;All the sky is stained with purple,All the water flushed with crimson!No; it is the Red Swan floating,Diving down beneath the water;15To the sky its wings are lifted,With its blood the waves are reddened!Over it the Star of EveningMelts and trembles through the purple,Hangs suspended in the twilight.20No; it is a bead of wampumOn the robes of the Great Spirit,As he passes through the twilight,Walks in silence through the heavens.This with joy beheld Iagoo25And he said in haste: "Behold it!See the sacred Star of Evening!You shall hear a tale of wonder,Hear the story of Osseo!Son of the Evening Star, Osseo!30"Once, in days no more remembered,Ages nearer the beginning,When the heavens were closer to us,And the Gods were more familiar,In the North-land lived a hunter,35With ten young and comely daughters,Tall and lithe as wands of willow;Only Oweenee, the youngest,She the wilful and the wayward,She the silent dreamy maiden,40Was the fairest of the sisters."All these women married warriors,Married brave and haughty husbands;Only Oweenee, the youngest,Laughed and flouted all her lovers,45All her young and handsome suitors,And then married old Osseo,Old Osseo, poor and ugly,Broken with age and weak with coughing,Always coughing like a squirrel.50"Ah, but beautiful within himWas the spirit of Osseo,From the Evening Star descended,Star of Evening, Star of Woman,Star of tenderness and passion!55All its fire was in his bosomAll its beauty in his spirit,All its mystery in his being,All its splendor in his language!"And her lovers, the rejected,60Handsome men with belts of wampum,Handsome men with paint and feathers,Pointed at her in derision,Followed her with jest and laughter.But she said: 'I care not for you,65Care not for your belts of wampum,Care not for your paint and feathers,Care not for your jest and laughter;I am happy with Osseo!'"Once to some great feast invited,70Through the damp and dusk of eveningWalked together the ten sisters,Walked together with their husbands;Slowly followed old Osseo,With fair Oweenee beside him;75All the others chatted gayly,These two only walked in silence."At the western sky OsseoGazed intent, as if imploring,Often stopped and gazed imploring80At the trembling Star of Evening,At the tender Star of Woman;And they heard him murmur softly,'Ah, showain nemeshin, Nosa!Pity, pity me, my father!'85"'Listen!' said the elder sister,'He is praying to his father!What a pity that the old manDoes not stumble in the pathway,Does not break his neck by falling!'90And they laughed till all the forestRang with their unseemly laughter."On their pathway through the woodlandsLay an oak, by storms uprooted,Lay the great trunk of an oak-tree,95Buried half in leaves and mosses,Mouldering, crumbling, huge and hollow.And Osseo, when he saw it,Gave a shout, a cry of anguish,Leaped into its yawning cavern,100At one end went in an old man,Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly;From the other came a young man,Tall and straight and strong and handsome."Thus Osseo was transfigured,105Thus restored to youth and beauty;But, alas for good Osseo,And for Oweenee, the faithful!Strangely, too, was she transfigured.Changed into a weak old woman,110With a staff she tottered onward,Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly!And the sisters and their husbandsLaughed until the echoing forestRang with their unseemly laughter.115"But Osseo turned not from her,Walked with slower step beside her,Took her hand, as brown and witheredAs an oak-leaf is in winter,Called her sweetheart, Nenemoosha,120Soothed her with soft words of kindness,Till they reached the lodge of feasting,Till they sat down in the wigwam,Sacred to the Star of Evening,To the tender Star of Woman.125"Wrapt in visions, lost in dreaming,At the banquet sat Osseo;All were merry, all were happy,All were joyous but Osseo.Neither food nor drink he tasted,130Neither did he speak nor listen,But as one bewildered sat he,Looking dreamily and sadly,First at Oweenee, then upwardAt the gleaming sky above them.135"Then a voice was heard, a whisper,Coming from the starry distance,Coming from the empty vastness,Low, and musical, and tender;And the voice said: 'O Osseo!140O my son, my best beloved!Broken are the spells that bound you,All the charms of the magicians,All the magic powers of evil;Come to me; ascend, Osseo!145"'Taste the food that stands before you:It is blessed and enchanted,It has magic virtues in it,It will change you to a spirit.All your bowls and all your kettles150Shall be wood and clay no longer;But the bowls be changed to wampum,And the kettles shall be silver;They shall shine like shells of scarlet,Like the fire shall gleam and glimmer.155"'And the women shall no longerBear the dreary doom of labor,But be changed to birds, and glistenWith the beauty of the starlight,Painted with the dusky splendors160Of the skies and clouds of evening!'"What Osseo heard as whispers,What as words he comprehended,Was but music to the others,Music as of birds afar off,165Of the whippoorwill afar off,Of the lonely WawonaissaSinging in the darksome forest."Then the lodge began to tremble,Straight began to shake and tremble,170And they felt it rising, rising,Slowly through the air ascending,From the darkness of the tree-topsForth into the dewy starlight,Till it passed the topmost branches;175And behold! the wooden dishesAll were changed to shells of scarlet!And behold! the earthen kettlesAll were changed to bowls of silver!And the roof-poles of the wigwam180Were as glittering rods of silver,And the roof of bark upon themAs the shining shards of beetles."Then Osseo gazed around him,And he saw the nine fair sisters,185All the sisters and their husbands,Changed to birds of various plumage.Some were jays and some were magpies,Others thrushes, others blackbirds;And they hopped, and sang, and twittered,190Perked and fluttered all their feathers,Strutted in their shining plumage,And their tails like fans unfolded."Only Oweenee, the youngest,Was not changed, but sat in silence,195Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly,Looking sadly at the others;Till Osseo, gazing upward,Gave another cry of anguish,Such a cry as he had uttered200By the oak-tree in the forest."Then returned her youth and beauty,And her soiled and tattered garmentsWere transformed to robes of ermine,And her staff became a feather,205Yes, a shining silver feather!"And again the wigwam trembled,Swayed and rushed through airy currents,Through transparent cloud and vapor,And amid celestial splendors210On the Evening Star alighted,As a snow-flake falls on snow-flake,As a leaf drops on a river,As the thistle-down on water."Forth with cheerful words of welcome215Came the father of Osseo,He with radiant locks of silver,He with eyes serene and tender.And he said: 'My son, Osseo,Hang the cage of birds you bring there,220Hang the cage with rods of silver,And the birds with glistening feathers,At the doorway of my wigwam.'"At the door he hung the bird-cage,And they entered in and gladly225Listened to Osseo's father,Ruler of the Star of Evening,As he said: 'O my Osseo!I have had compassion on you,Given you back your youth and beauty,230Into birds of various plumageChanged your sisters and their husbands;Changed them thus because they mocked you;In the figure of the old man,In that aspect sad and wrinkled,235Could not see your heart of passion,Could not see your youth immortal;Only Oweenee, the faithful,Saw your naked heart and loved you."'In the lodge that glimmers yonder,240In the little star that twinklesThrough the vapors, on the left hand,Lives the envious Evil Spirit,The Wabeno, the magician,Who transformed you to an old man.245Take heed lest his beams fall on you,For the rays he darts around himAre the power of his enchantment,Are the arrows that he uses.'"Many years, in peace and quiet,250On the peaceful Star of EveningDwelt Osseo with his father;Many years, in song and flutter,At the doorway of the wigwam,Hung the cage with rods of silver,255And fair Oweenee, the faithful,Bore a son unto Osseo,With the beauty of his mother,With the courage of his father."And the boy grew up and prospered,260And Osseo, to delight him,Made him little bows and arrows,Opened the great cage of silver,And let loose his aunts and uncles,All those birds with glossy feathers,265For his little son to shoot at."Round and round they wheeled and darted,Filled the Evening Star with music,With their songs of joy and freedom;Filled the Evening Star with splendor,270With the fluttering of their plumage;Till the boy, the little hunter,Bent his bow and shot an arrow,Shot a swift and fatal arrow,And a bird, with shining feathers,275At his feet fell wounded sorely."But, O wondrous transformation!'T was no bird he saw before him!'T was a beautiful young woman,With the arrow in her bosom!280"When her blood fell on the planet,On the sacred Star of Evening,Broken was the spell of magic,Powerless was the strange enchantment,And the youth, the fearless bowman,285Suddenly felt himself descending,Held by unseen hands, but sinkingDownward through the empty spaces,Downward through the clouds and vapors,Till he rested on an island,290On an island, green and grassy,Yonder in the Big-Sea-Water."After him he saw descendingAll the birds with shining feathers,Fluttering, falling, wafted downward,295Like the painted leaves of Autumn;And the lodge with poles of silver,With its roof like wings of beetles,Like the shining shards of beetles,By the winds of heaven uplifted,300Slowly sank upon the island,Bringing back the good Osseo,Bringing Oweenee, the faithful."Then the birds, again transfigured,Reassumed the shape of mortals,305Took their shape, but not their stature;They remained as Little People,Like the pygmies, the Puk-Wudjies,And on pleasant nights of Summer,When the Evening Star was shining,310Hand in hand they danced togetherOn the island's craggy headlands,On the sand-beach low and level."Still their glittering lodge is seen there,On the tranquil Summer evenings,315And upon the shore the fisherSometimes hears their happy voices,Sees them dancing in the starlight!"When the story was completed,When the wondrous tale was ended,320Looking round upon his listeners,Solemnly Iagoo added:"There are great men, I have known such,Whom their people understand not,Whom they even make a jest of,325Scoff and jeer at in derision.From the story of OsseoLet them learn the fate of jesters!"All the wedding guests delightedListened to the marvellous story,330Listened laughing and applauding,And they whispered to each other:"Does he mean himself, I wonder?And are we the aunts and uncles?"